Little Sister
by Lilybookworm13
Summary: Émilie knew what they were planning to do and she wanted to stop them. She didn't want to see her friends die. They didn't listen to her. Why would they she's just a girl.


Miss Danham's School for Girls only catered for the best of society. Many girls from the school had married into nobility, a fact Miss Danham was proud of. In her school little girls became young ladies, they corrected their posture, learned to dance and how to hold a polite conversation.

For most upperclass girls it was a dream to attend Miss Danham's school. There were only a few places each year and each girl that received a place treasured it. All except one.

Émilie Pontmercy.

They called her the wild French girl. She often got angry during class and complained about what they did. She felt the school was her prison and she was waiting to set free, and now there was not much longer for her to wait.

* * *

><p>The fair haired girl flew through the corridors, not caring who saw her or what they would say. She closed the door of her private chamber and stood with her fists clenched, glaring at the wall.<p>

She had only one week left at the academy and then she was going to join her brother. It was going to be perfect, just like when they were children. But he had ruined it. He wasn't letting her come home to France.

She walked to the dressing table and looked at herself in the looking glass as she pulled the uncomfortable pins from her hair. She brushed through the soft curls and tied them back with a ribbon.

Finally she sat at her desk and lifted a piece of writing paper before she began a letter to her favourite person in the word.

Dear Marius,

For months I have been counting down the days until I could return to Paris and live with you. It has been all I could think about since the last time I saw you and you promised that when I came home you would let me stay with you.

But now I am afraid that it will never happen. Grandfather has arranged for me to marry a man from London this summer. This means I will never be able to return home.

I could run away and join you but he would know I was with you so he would find me straight away.

I wish I was with you in Paris, in your little appartement where they don't know who we are, unlike the rest of France.

I hope to write again soon, until then I send you all my love.

Ta Sœur

Émilie.

P.S. Tell everyone that I said hello and I miss them all.

Émilie folded the letter carefully and slipped it into an envelope. As she wrote the address on the front she thought of her brother and the rest of her already dead family.

* * *

><p>" Quatre vingt dix neuf, cent." The little girl counted as she walked up the stairs towards her brother. He stood with his arms folded at the top of the staircase, smiling down at his younger sister by six years. The girl stood beside him and smiled.<p>

" One hundred and two," she said.

" We have to add that to the back staircase which was seventy eight," Marius said, looking at his sister. He had already figured the answer out and waited for her.

" One hundred and eighty!" Émilie said, proudly.

" Marius. Émilie." A voice called them from the bottom floor.

" Papa," Marius went to run down the stairs after his sister but quickly remembered that he was twelve and too old to he running anywhere, but he did walk as fast as he could, reaching the ground floor to see his parents being hugged by their daughter.

" What did you do this afternoon?" Madame Pontmency asked her daughter.

" We finished our lessons and then counted the stairs," Émilie said, with a small sigh.

" That's an odd thing to do," Monsieur Pontmercy said.

" Marius would not play will my dolls. I was going to have a tea party but it's not fun alone," she said, looking at her brother.

The duo were usually good playmates despite their age difference, but there was always the problem that they would want to do the same things.

* * *

><p>Émilie stared into the looking glass, the person looking back at her was not her. It was a girl in high society, something she never wanted to be. Her brown eyes had lost the sparkle they held when she lived in Paris and she was paler without the freckles she usually had from staying in the sun too long. The girl was stick thin because of the corset she was being forced to wear.<p>

Émilie squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears she could feel. She wanted to go home.

The school bell rang for what would be the final time, it was to tell the girls that they could go.

Émilie picked lifted the scissors from her sewing kit and moved them towards her hair. She closed her eyes until she had cut off the first bit. It barely touched her shoulders now, she then cut the next section, and the next until she had worked her way around her head. The hair on the ground covered her feet and stuck to her dress. She ran a brush through her hair and admired her handiwork in the mirror. She then opened her trunk and took out her favourite dress. It was navy blue and getting a little short but it was her mother's, she took off the dress she was wearing and untied the strings on her corset so she could breathe properly. She then put on her new dress. She took the pillow off the bed and pulled the pillowcase off. In the pillowcase she put a dress, money and everything that she owned that was valuable. It was all she would need to get away. She walked out of her room and went downstairs using the servants staircase. She arrived in the empty kitchen and slipped out the backdoor and then she ran.


End file.
